


ABC (I Hate Me)

by Androids_in_Metropolis



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cute, F/M, Family, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Multi, learn to read, teaching murphy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-06 00:59:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5396918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Androids_in_Metropolis/pseuds/Androids_in_Metropolis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Murphy doesn't think he's as good as everyone else, and surely everyone else agrees. For God's sake, he can't even read right!</p>
            </blockquote>





	ABC (I Hate Me)

**Author's Note:**

> Teen and up for swearing :) 
> 
> This is my first The 100 work in a while, and I'm making my return to the fandom :)

Murphy never understood why Clarke and Bellamy didn’t just abandon him. They were the King and the Princess of the camp. They knew what they were doing, and they knew the people. He didn’t know anything...hell, he barely knew how to read! Why were the people who could have anyone in camp with him? Why had they fallen for him?

Murphy flashed back to the day he had come back to camp; Beaten, battered and bruised. They had let him back in...for some reason. He knew he didn’t deserve it. Raven knew he didn’t deserve it; She had tried to push him out, but Clarke had nursed him back to almost health (he had never been a healthy person). He didn’t know why Clarke had taken care of him, why she went out of her way to make sure he was okay when there was a whole camp of more deserving people with cuts and scrapes she could have been tending to. 

Bellamy watched over him. Held him after his nightmares; Holding him until the shaking stopped, until his breath came more easily and his heart slowed again. Bellamy treated him like he mattered. He had stayed with him all night when he had first came back to camp, when Clarke would nap between working. Murphy was grateful, but he didn’t understand. 

Then Clarke had let him out, set him to work, let him assimilate back into camp life. She had let him eat with the others, speak with the others, try and make connections again. She had helped him, let him off when he was too tired (though he tried his best to hide it. He had to work; It was the only way he deserved to stay). 

Bellamy helped him as he worked, spoke to him when the other’s wouldn’t. Murphy was still upset with both of them; Bellamy had kicked the bucket out from under him, Clarke had banished him and given him some of the worse times of his life. At the same time though, he felt he had deserved it, even if he hadn’t thought so at the time. He was a bad person. 

Bellamy had approached him as he worked building the camp wall one day and told him what he had wanted to for a while; He told him he loved him, and that Clarke was open, and that they...both of them, wanted to know if Murphy would join their relationship. 

Murphy had started to cry. 

Now it all seemed ridiculous. He was stuck waiting in their tent when they went to some important meeting between the grounders, the delinquents, and the Ark. He was just some illiterate criminal...what was he doing here? He can’t help them. He can’t help Clarke lead like Bellamy can, and he can’t help Bellamy run a camp like Clarke can. He is a manual laborer, and a weak one at that. He is the bottom of the baril... He’s the one they left. 

He was shaking, his arms wrapped around himself. He was crying. Murphy didn’t notice as the tent flap opened, didn’t notice the moonlight falling across the floor in front of his curled body. He didn’t notice Clarke kneeling beside him, or Bellamy sitting down behind him and pulling him onto his lap. 

“Johnny,” Bellamy whispered, wrapping himself protectively around the younger boy. He could feel Murphy shaking in his arms, and he heard his tough breathing...he had been crying again. Murphy often cried, and he always tried to hide it. That bothered Bellamy; A relationship had to be built on trust...especially in camp. He knew he didn’t deserve Murphy’s trust, and that Clarke hardly did either, but if this thing they had was going to work, wouldn’t they have to trust each other? 

Clarke sat down beside her two boys, patting Murphy gently on the back. She worried about him. She worried about him constantly. He had no self esteem to speak of, and she knew better than anyone that that could tear you down. If you didn’t believe in yourself, no one would. She wished she could give it to him, but no amount of telling him he was good and doing okay would reverse the damage done; the damage she had helped create. She wouldn’t forgive herself if something happened to Murphy. She had done enough, hurt enough people...did she have to hurt everyone she ever cared for?

“Johnny,” Bellamy whispered again, holding the younger man close to him. “Johnny, what’s the matter? You have to talk to us...you can trust us, we’re gonna take care of you. We love you,” he reassured the boy (God, he was young, Bellamy thought. Only 18...he, Bellamy was going on 22, and Clarke 19. He always felt so old).

Murphy wanted to talk to him. He wanted to let Clarke make him feel better, tell him he was being silly. He wanted Bellamy to kiss away the pain, and for everything to feel alright again (had it ever been alright? Had he ever been okay? He doubted it). 

“I-I’m s-so so-sorry,” Murphy stuttered through a sob, burying his messy head deeper into Bellamy’s hard chest. He could feel the older man’s heartbeat fluttering against his ear. It was panic inducing, yet oddly calming. The steady, earthy sound of a heart beat that wasn’t his own. “I’m so so-sorry.”

Clarke frowned, pushing her golden locks out of her face. Sorry? What did he have to be sorry for? She wouldn’t ever admit it, but the first thing her mind flashed to was murder. Had Murphy killed someone on camp? She quickly pushed the thought away. 

“What for, baby?” she asked, her tone almost motherly in its degree of perfect calm and love. It was a tone she had perfected sitting next to sick beds, keeping people calm and happy as they slipped away from her and out of her grasp. 

“Sorry for everything. Sorry for not being as good as everyone else...I’m just sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t even write you a fucking note to say goodbye if I ever...if it was ever too much.” Murphy was sobbing now, not just occasionally but every few seconds a new sob wracked his body. He clung to Bellamy as if the man were his lifeline...in a way he was. Bellamy was the life line, and Clarke was the ship. Murphy was slowly sinking in a sea of unrelenting self hatred. 

Clarke swallowed thickly, looking up at Bellamy from where she sat; The words ‘if it was ever too much,’ sending chills down her spine. Surely Murphy would never...never doing anything to himself. There would never be any need to write a note, would there? No, there wouldn’t. She would make sure of that. 

“Murphy, you’re the best. You work hard...and if all you want is to learn to read and write, I’ll teach you. You are so, so smart. You could learn anything, absolutely anything you wanted to,” Clarke whispered, running her hand over Murphy’s spine. She was determined to get him out of wherever he had fallen into, even if it meant hours of painful lessons. 

“Johnny, quit the bullshit,” Bellamy growled, holding the boy tighter. “You know we don’t believe any of that shit. You’re smart, and funny, and know things we don’t know...you’re a much better hunter, and you’re good at word play, and you can swim-None of us can swim.” Bellamy was listening things on his fingers, his eyes alight with righteous anger at Murphy’s inability to see his own brilliance. 

Murphy looked up at the two people he loved most, his lips shaking as he tried not to let the tears fall. Did they really think what they were saying? Would he be able to learn after all these years? Could he be like everyone else? It was true he knew things other people didn’t, but he wasn’t proud of the fact; Instead he was ashamed. He had acquired the skills in less than savory ways. Didn’t that lesson there value?

“Now shut up, and let’s get something to eat,” Bellamy told him, pushing him off his lap and helping he and Clarke to their feet. 

Murphy shuffled his feet before pulling both of his lovers into an awkward group hug. He had never been one to initiate physical affection...honestly, he didn’t like it, but feeling close to someone-in this case, two someones-made him feel differently about the matter. 

Clarke and Bellamy’s eyes met over the slightly shorter boy’s head as the hugged him back. This was the first time he had started anything...a conversation (which he hadn’t really started, but Clarke would give him the credit) and a physical movement. 

“I-Y-You guys...you guys are my family,” Murphy mumbled, shyly. His voice still shook, his tone thick from mucus. “I’m r-really glad to h-have you,” he whispered, hugging them both tightly before pulling away and wiping his hand across his face. He was ashamed to be seen like this; He liked to think he was someone who controlled everything, and did whatever the hell he wanted, but sometimes...sometimes that just broke and he was left feeling like the 12 year old that had watched his father float for him or the 15 year old that had watched his mother die. Now he was an 18 year old with a new family, and friends, and people to turn to. It felt good not to feel alone any longer. 

“We love you, dumb-fuck,” Clarke rasped, feeling tears prickling her eyes as she pulled Murphy in for a last hug, making a mental note to do everything she possibly could to please him and make him feel like he was a part of things. Of course he needed some extra support...she should have been giving it to him from the beginning. 

Bellamy tousled Murphy’s hair, giving him a crooked smile. 

“Yeah, don’t be silly, of course we’re your family. We love you,” he told him, before opening the tent and leading the group back out into the world where the night was still young. A fire was roaring, Monty’s moonshine was going around, and some sort of animal was on the spit. 

Just another night; But tonight, instead of getting shit faced and full the little group of three took some tablets and chalk (found in ruins) and began a lesson on ABC. Murphy sat between the two, listening intently, holding his breath every now and then at harder letters such as Z. 

He learned quickly.

**Author's Note:**

> do leave comments~ Do leave prompts~ I'd love to hear from y'all ~


End file.
